


Headcase

by Grey (grey853)



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Angst, Drama, M/M, h/c
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 01:52:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/792671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grey853/pseuds/Grey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim's mistakes from the past put Blair in danger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Headcase

**Author's Note:**

> This first appeared in Mysti Frank's COME TO YOUR SENSES 12. Be warned that this contains nonconsensual sex.

## Headcase

by Grey

Author's webpage: <http://grey.ravenshadow.net/>

* * *

Author's disclaimer: Not mine, at least not yet.

* * *

Headcase  
by Grey 

"Don't you think you're overreacting a little bit here, Chief?" 

"No, I don't think I'm overreacting. I told you I had to be at the university early today and you let me oversleep on purpose." 

Jim took a deep, calming breath as he leaned back against the counter, his arms folded across his chest. "You were up until four this morning. It's only seven now. How is it oversleeping when you haven't even slept a couple of hours?" 

"Jim, you're missing the point here. You get up before I do to go to the station. I depend on you to make sure that I'm up." Blair sorted through a stack of folders, selected one, and stuffed it in his back pack along with a couple of texts before zipping it up. "I guess I wouldn't be so upset if I hadn't told you specifically that I needed to be there early today." 

"You wouldn't be upset if you'd had any sleep." 

"Right." Blair shook his head and ran a hand back through his hair. The dark circles shadowed his eyes as he reached for his coat. "Look, I'll be late tonight. I've got extra classes and meetings until this afternoon. Then I'm going to see someone, so don't wait up." 

"Chief, wait." 

"What?" The tension in the face tightened as the younger man gripped the door, wary and impatient. 

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I just thought you needed some more sleep that's all." 

"I know that. It's just that when I ask you to do something, I'd appreciate it if you'd try to listen once in awhile. This was important." 

His jaw clenched, his muscles aching as he held back his hurt at being Blair's target for disappointment. "So, I guess this means you won't be coming to the station at all today." 

"I can't. I told you that last week. Janie asked me to take her classes and I explained all this last night, Jim." 

"I know. It's just that you've already got your hands full and it doesn't seem fair for you to have to do someone else's work, too." 

"Really? So, I guess that doesn't include all the paperwork I do for you, huh?" Impatience colored the words, a harsh edge to each one. "Look, I have to go. I'll see you in the morning." 

"In the morning? I thought you were just going to be late." 

"Like I said before, don't wait up like you usually do." 

"I don't wait up, Chief." 

"Right. Later, man. I am like so late." 

Before he could even say good bye, his partner closed the door with a quick slam, his exiting footsteps moving even faster than usual. 

"Damn." Jim turned and poured himself another cup of coffee and looked at the untouched algae shake he'd made for Blair. He hated the idea of his friend going without sleep or food and, frankly, without him. 

Not for the first time, he imagined the solid frame pushed against his, the warmth flooding his groin with energy, desire that heated the whole body. Pushing the thoughts away, he poured out the useless drinks, and then washed out the blender and the coffee pot. 

The more he tried to block out images of Blair, the more they invaded, flashes of ass, shoulders, hairy chest, all waved for attention. Leaning forward, he splashed his face with cold water and rested his elbows on the edge of the sink, the whole time working to control the maddeningly hard cock shamelessly begging for pets and touches. After a few more splashes, he stood up and got his coat, thankful that he wore really long sweaters in winter. 

* * *

"So, where's your shadow?" 

"Working." 

"Not here, I see." Simon Banks puffed away on his cigar, eyeing Jim's desk still piled high with folders. Picking one up, he leafed through as he spoke. "Damn shame, too, looks like." 

"Sir, I know I'm running late on some of the paperwork, but I'm working on that right now. It's a little slow today. I should be caught up by this afternoon." 

"Yeah, maybe. Look, Jim, Sandburg hasn't been in much the last couple of weeks. What's going on? Anything I should know about?" 

"No, sir. It's just a busy time for him right now. He's taking on another grad student's classes and he's working his ass off trying to keep up with his own work, too." 

"So, that pretty much explains it then." 

"Explains what?" 

"Why you've been in such a pissy mood lately." 

Sitting back, looking up, the swell of defensive anger swallowed him whole. "If you've got a point, Simon, I wish you'd make it." 

"Come into my office and I will." 

"I've got work to do here." 

"Jim, my office. Now." 

The tone brooked no real argument as Jim stood up, his irritation at being bossed around growing even stronger. By the time the captain shut the door, he wanted to slam a chair right through the window. "Sir, this isn't really your business." 

"What isn't my business?" 

"Sandburg." 

Simon settled into his chair behind the desk and then leaned forward to put his cigar in the ashtray. "What makes you think he's what I'm going to talk about?" 

"Please, sir, give me some credit here. First you rifle though my files casually asking where he is and then accuse me of being pissy because of his absence. Tell me I shouldn't make a connection." 

"Guess that's why they made you a detective, Jim. Now, sit down and tell me what's going on with you. If it's Sandburg, fine, tell me why. If it's not, tell me that, too. Either way, I want an explanation as to why you've been such an asshole lately." 

Pacing in front of the window, the frustration building, Jim shook his head. "Oh that's great, Simon. First I'm pissy and now I'm an asshole?" 

While Jim fumed, Simon poured coffee. "Here. It's decaffeinated. Maybe that will help." 

"Help what?" 

"Help settle you down some. Look, Jim, I've had a ton of complaints, from people who usually don't complain, about the way you've been acting lately." 

Jim stepped over to the table and sat down before he spoke. Rubbing a hand across his mouth, he fought the urge to say fuck whoever wanted to bitch about his attitude. Instead he just asked, "What did they say?" 

"Most asked if there was something wrong. Anderson in forensics requested an apology before she'll send anymore results directly to your desk." 

Pausing for a moment, he recalled the session when he'd asked if Anderson had any clue about proper procedure when one of the report pages didn't print out. "I apologized for that. How was I supposed to know it was a computer glitch?" 

"Doesn't matter if it was a glitch or not, Jim, and apparently your so-called apology wasn't taken as sincere enough. Pretty much everyone, including myself, wants to know if you're okay. I haven't seen you act this way since right after Jack disappeared." 

Sagging back, Jim frowned, his words still tense. "That bad, huh?" 

"Yeah. In fact, if Jack were still around, I'd have him take you in hand and get you straightened out again." 

The mention of his former partner's name clenched his heart. He missed Jack, missed his touches, his warm embraces, his whispers late at night long after they'd left police work behind them. 

"Jim?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Are you okay?" 

"I'm fine, Captain. I've just been having a few problems lately. I'm sorry if they've spilled over into the job. I'll work on it." 

"Anything you can talk about? I'd like to think we've become friends, Jim. If something's going on, you know you can talk to me about it off the record." 

"I know, Simon. I do. But honestly, this is something I'm going to have to deal with on my own." 

The captain drank slowly, his eyes intent and serious. "Does this have anything to do with why the kid's been avoiding the station?" 

"I don't know. He's been avoiding the loft, too. I'm not sure, but I think he's getting serious about someone." 

"And that bothers you?" 

The question sounded innocent, but Jim saw the trap and shrugged. "It bothers me that he's not taking better care of himself. When he is home, he's only sleeping a few hours a night and he doesn't eat worth shit. He looks tired all the time, too. I mean, he's doing all the work for this Janie person and his own besides." 

"And ignoring you, huh?" 

"That's not it, Simon." 

"Isn't it?" Jim met dark eyes and swallowed hard, the lie he almost said out loud scraping his throat, stuck out of reach of his stubborn tongue. "Well?" 

"Maybe it is. I'm not sure. I just know I worry that's he's in over his head. I'm not the only one being pissy these last few weeks. He about bit my head off this morning." 

"Because?" 

"He said I let him oversleep when all I did was let him sleep an extra half hour after going to bed at four." 

After a long pause, Simon put his mug down and focused on Jim, his voice very serious. "What I'm going to say now is probably going to piss you off, but I'm going to say it anyway, because it's important." 

Uneasy, the tone way too close to concern for comfort, he fidgeted in the chair while crossing his arms. "I'm not sure I want to hear this." 

"I'm sure you don't, but I'm saying it anyway. Is it possible that you're having feelings for Sandburg?" 

"Of course I have feelings for him, Simon. He's my partner." 

"You know what I'm saying, Jim. I know you thought your relationship with Jack was a secret and it was, but I knew what was going on." 

"Leave Jack out of this, Simon." 

"I can't do that, Jim. You're doing the same thing with Sandburg, you did with Jack." 

Standing, Jim shook his head, his anger barely controlled. "That's bullshit, sir. I'm not going to talk about this anymore. I appreciate your concern, but, frankly, none of this is your business." 

Grabbing the door handle, he stopped suddenly before he jerked it open. Several calming breaths later, he managed to speak again. "I'm sorry, Simon, I just can't talk about this. Not with you. I don't even want to think about it." 

"I know, Jim. It can't be easy having feelings for a guy who doesn't seem to notice." 

Sagging forward, his forehead resting on the door, he closed his eyes. "God, I'm fucked. Is it that obvious?" 

"Not really, but I know about Jack." After a brief pause, he added softly, "And vice." 

"Shit." Jim turned and stared at his friend. "You've known all this time and never said anything?" 

"When you first got here, I was hard on you for a reason. I didn't approve of what I'd heard about your techniques regardless of how well they got results." 

Flushed with embarrassment, Jim sat back down, his hand rubbing his face several times. "Damn it, Simon. I'm not proud of that time. I don't know what the hell I was thinking." 

"If I remember right, I don't think you were doing much thinking at all back then. Now I know why. After everything you went through in Peru and as a kid, I'm surprised you didn't self-destruct totally. As it is, you've survived. You've changed and I'm proud to call you my friend now. I don't think I could have said that when you first got here." 

"Jack helped with that." 

"Yeah, he did." 

"Then I fucked up with Emily." 

"Yeah, you did, and you went back to being the same asshole before Sandburg showed up. He's been good for you, Jim. Don't mess up again and lose a chance. Tell him how you feel." 

"I can't." 

"Why not?" 

"Because he's got someone else." 

"You're sure?" 

"Pretty sure, yeah." 

"You better make damn sure before you give up, because I have to tell you, I didn't much like the old Ellison." 

"Me, either, Simon. Me, either." 

* * *

Dragging into the loft, his back pack dropping just inside the door, Blair leaned back on the wall and groaned. 

"You okay, Chief?" 

"Yeah, I'm fine, Jim. I thought I said not to wait up." Blair flipped on the light, his eyes squinting at the sudden change from darkness. 

"Since when do I always do what you tell me?" Jim sat in the chair by the window, his head slightly tilted as he watched his friend walk slowly to the couch. Sinking down, coat still on, the exhaustion paled his features under the dark shadow of whisker. "You look tired." 

"Yeah, well, that's because I am, man." With his head resting on the back of the couch, his eyes still closed, he talked straight up in the air, the words slow and not quite formed completely. "It's after two in the morning, Jim. You should be sleeping, not playing big brother." 

"I'm just worried about you." 

"I know, and I'm sorry about going off like I did this morning." Lifting his head, Blair sat up and held himself, his arms crossed. An involuntary shudder shook his whole body. "Man, sometimes things just suck and I don't mean to take it out on you." 

"So, what's going on?" 

"My friend Janie has cancer, man." 

Stunned, Jim found most of his words escaped capture. 

"I know. I didn't know what to say when she first told me either." 

"I guess I could start with I'm sorry and then add how long have you known?" 

Taking a deep breath, closing his eyes again as if he could ward off evil visions, he spoke softly. "She found a lump in her left breast a few weeks ago. They did a biopsy which came back positive, so they did the surgery like right away. They started her first chemo today and, man, I have to tell you, she's a braver person than I could be." 

"They did chemo so soon after surgery?" 

"Yeah, well, they do that sometimes, depending on the situation." 

The pain in his friend's words tore at his belly, the desire to help and ignorance at how to do the right thing shredding the gut with tension. "So, that's why you've been taking her classes and staying out late?" 

"Yeah, she wanted to keep up with them on her own, but there's no way she's going to be able to. The scans showed metastasis to the nodes and the liver. She even has spots on her lungs. It's bad, Jim." 

"I don't know what to say, Chief. That's really shitty." 

"I know. I just came from her place. She's doing okay, I guess. The new drugs they have now help keep her from getting so sick to her stomach, but they really knock her out. Her mom's staying with her for now though and that helps." 

Rubbing his face hard with both hands, his skin still pale, but his eyes reddened, he shook his head. "I'm sorry for being such a pain in the ass the last few weeks. I've just had a lot on my mind." 

Jim got up and stood by the window, his friend's tears hard to watch. "So, why didn't you tell me what was going on? Didn't you think I'd understand?" 

"Understand what? That a good person could be dying?" 

"She'd not dead, Chief." 

"Yeah, I know and I keep telling myself that over and over, but it's still hard to drown out the other voice that keeps screaming louder." 

"What voice it that?" 

"The one that says I'm losing a friend." 

"That's always a rough one. I've lost friends before and it's never easy, no matter how it happens, slow or fast. I don't have any answers for you on this one." 

Blair slumped back again, this time his hands over his face. "I know you don't. Nobody does." Jerking back up, he slammed a fist into the armrest as words choked though a tight throat. "I just really hate seeing her go through this shit, man. It's not fair." 

"This kind of thing never is." 

"But she's tough. If anyone can beat this thing, she can. It's just that I feel like I should be doing more and I can't. No matter what I do, it's not enough." 

"I think you're being way too hard on yourself. You're taking care of the school business, which I'm sure helps relieve her mind." 

"I know, but I can't keep it up, man. It's killing me doing two loads, plus I know I'm falling down when it comes to us." 

"Don't worry about us, Chief. Do what you need to do to help your friend." 

"But you're my friend, too, Jim, and I don't want to let you down. I'm going to go to the dean tomorrow. I asked Janie for permission to tell him what's going on." 

"What do you mean permission? Are you saying no one at the university knows about her cancer? Why not?" 

"She wanted to keep it quiet until she knew more about what she'd be dealing with. I also think she's been pretty much in denial and shock since this whole thing started and now it's finally real." 

"Not a very nice real either." 

"No, it's not. I wanted to tell you sooner, but she made me promise not to, at least for a little while." 

"I understand. A promise is important." 

Blair slapped his hands on his knees while he took a deep breath. "So, I guess tomorrow morning, bright and early, I get to go into school and drop one of the biggest bombs they've had since Brackett. Everybody loves Janie and this is so not going to be nice." 

"Is there anything I can do to help?" 

"Not really." Jim watched as his guide struggled to keep his emotions even, to fight back the tears threatening to fall one more time. "I appreciate you being here to listen, man. I have a feeling I might need a friendly ear from time to time over the next few months." 

"Well, you've got more than that, Chief." 

"How's that?" 

"I've got sentinel ears. All the better to hear you with." 

Nodding, a weak smile fought a winning frown. "Thanks, man, I appreciate that, but for now, I'm just going to bed. I'm too tired to think straight and I have a feeling tomorrow's going to be another hell of a day." 

"Good night then." 

"Yeah, man, in the morning." 

As Blair walked into his room and shut the door, Jim spoke quietly. "All you have to do is whisper, Chief, and I'll hear you." 

* * *

Walking to his car, his arms full of books and folders, he tried not to think of the earlier hours. While the dean listened and offered well wishes along with arranging for a substitute, all the grad students he told reacted all over the emotional scale. Some cried immediately, but some held it in with the same shocked expression he now recognized so well, the hell I don't want that to ever happen to me look. Reaching for his keys, he heard someone behind him. 

"Mr. Blair Sandburg?" 

"Yes?" 

A young man about his age stood there, his dark straight hair pulled back away from his face, the brown eyes intense and direct. About the same height as Jim, he had the same build, but more angular features. "My name's Kyle Roman and I was wondering if you had a few minutes free. I need to talk to you about Jim Ellison." 

"You know Jim?" 

"Yeah, you could say that." Roman stepped closer, his voice lower, the full lips forming the words very carefully. "Maybe we could go some place more private to talk? There's a small cafe just around the corner. Have you had lunch yet?" 

Curious, but unsettled by the man's invasion of his personal space, Blair stepped back. "Look, I'm in kind of a hurry. Maybe if you give me your phone number, I could call you later." 

"Come on, Blair. This will only take a little bit of your precious time. I think once you've heard what I have to say, you'll think it's a good investment." Roman's hand touched his shoulder and squeezed hard, his stare never wavering. 

"I don't mean to be rude, man, but take your hand off me." 

"And if I don't?" 

"Then I'll take if off for you." 

"Really?" Lips curled back in an amused sneer. "You think you're tough enough, Mr. Sandburg?" 

"I don't know what your deal is, man, but this is so not cool. Just back off." 

"Not yet, not until I've done what I need to do." A gun suddenly pressed into Blair's right side, the metal biting into his ribs even through the coat. 

"What the hell are you doing?" 

"Open the door to your car and put your stuff in the back seat. Then get in the driver's side. Try anything and this gun is very likely going to shoot that nice looking woman coming our way. Got that?" 

Swallowing hard, trying not to panic, Blair watched as the lady in question stopped and sat down on a nearby bus bench. He glanced at the gun again and nodded. "Yeah, man, I understand." 

"Then do it. The sooner I get you back to my place, the sooner I can start educating you about your partner, maybe even give you a couple of demonstrations." 

Blair avoided making eye contact as he followed orders. Slipping the key in the ignition, he asked, "Where am I supposed to go?" 

"Just keep going straight and I'll tell you where to turn. And remember, you try to draw anyone's attention by speeding or running a red light, the cop who stops us is a dead man. In fact, killing a cop would feel really good right now, so I don't think you want to try it." 

As Roman motioned with the gun to start the engine, he obeyed and pulled out in traffic. The whole time the man beside him watched his every move, his eyes focused on his face as he drove. "You're really pretty, Sandburg. You wouldn't last long in prison." 

"What?" 

"That's where Jim sent me for the last few years." 

"So, he's not your friend then?" 

"Friend? I wouldn't exactly call him a friend. We had more of a love turned to hate, but I'll fuck you anyway kind of thing going on. But, I want to save all the details until later. Turn up here on Chelsea and then just keep driving. It's going to take a little while to get to where we're going." 

"And where's that, man?" 

"To my personal playground." 

"Excuse me?" 

"Just wait. You'll see. I've had years to design the perfect place and now I'm going to have someone to play with, someone Jim wanted instead of me." 

"Oh, man, you've got this thing all wrong." Panic pushed the words out, fast and breathy. 

"I don't think so. I know Jim Ellison and since I got out of prison, I've had time to do a little research. You're his new partner." Slowly, Roman ran the gun along the edge of Blair's jaw, the slick metal cooler than he expected, dangerous enough to fog his thinking. 

"Watch where you're driving, Blair. Remember, you don't want to draw attention." 

"Then take that gun out of my face, man. I can't think." 

"Scared?" 

"Yeah." 

"Good. I like when you tell me the truth. Don't ever lie to me, Blair, not ever. I'll know it and if you should happen to slip one by me and I find out, you don't even want to imagine what I'll do." 

"I won't lie." Nervous, Blair stopped for the red light, anxiously looking for any possible way of signaling his situation. Finding none without endangering other drivers, he just kept going when the light turned green. 

"You know, Blair, I must say, you're quite an improvement over Jack." 

"Jack? Jack Pendergrast, Jim's old partner?" 

"Yeah. I'm not surprised Jim took a liking to you. I mean, it shocked the shit out of me when I found out he was fucking an old man like that." 

Blair choked and forced himself to keep his eyes on the traffic. "You're way off base, man. No way that's right." 

"No way? Are you saying Jim never told you about the man who ruined my life? The man who stole Jim and sent me to prison? Well, honey, just wait. Do I have a story to tell you." Leaning back, his gun hand up on the seat, the muzzle still aimed and steady, he smiled. "But that's going to come later, much later, when I've finished getting to know you better." 

"Oh, man, I don't get why you're doing this." He gripped the steering wheel harder, his hands sweaty despite the cold. 

"Don't worry, you don't have to understand. I know why it's important, why everything has to be just so, and that's all that matters. Your job, my dear lovely Blair, is surviving so Jim knows." 

"Knows what?" 

"Knows that betrayal will cost him what he loves most." 

* * *

"Where the hell is he, Simon? His friend Janie just called and he never showed up at her house. That's not like him. And he's not answering his cell phone." Jim paced his captain's office, his senses on full alert. 

"Settle down. Maybe he just forgot. I mean, you said he'd been running himself ragged for the last few weeks." 

"You don't understand. If he told Janie he'd be there, he'd be there." 

Simon sat forward and shook his head. "Come on. He's been late before. What's this really about?" 

"Janie's ill, so Blair wouldn't not be there unless something happened. The fact that he didn't call worries me even more." He braced himself on his captain's desk. "I have to find him." 

"Well, it's too soon for a missing persons report. I could just put out the word though and have people on the lookout for Blair or his car." 

"Thanks, Simon. I'm going over to the university. See if I can find anybody that knows anything." 

"Jim, he's going to be okay." 

"God, I hope so. I just have a really bad feeling about this." 

"A sentinel feeling?" 

"No. A cop feeling." 

"Shit." 

* * *

Roman finished stirring the powder into the apple juice and put the empty capsules on the table. He pointed at the glass while he spoke. "You can either drink it on your own or I can knock you out and put it in the other way." 

"Other way?" 

"God, what an innocent. I don't use needles, but enemas or suppositories work just as well as pills, sometimes even better. They're just a little messy and unpleasant if I have to force it or do it when you're out." 

"Shit." 

"Exactly." 

His mouth almost too dry to swallow, Blair worked hard to keep the words even. "You don't need to do this, man. I mean, I promised I wouldn't try to get away." 

"I figure at this point you're scared enough to promise just about anything. Drink the juice, Blair. Don't make me hurt you when I don't have to." 

Shaking, he lifted the glass between cuffed hands. He cursed his own fear, struggled to calm himself, but nothing worked. "Look, I don't do drugs, man." 

"That's going to change. Get used to it." 

"I won't struggle. Just don't make me do this." 

Roman stood up and moved closer, one hand on the table, the other stroking back Blair's hair. "Believe me, this will make it easier for both of us. You might be surprised how much better this will be once you're stoned. Now drink up. Time's a wasting. I want to call Jim later and I need you ready." 

"Ready for what, man?" 

"For bed." 

Before he could drop the glass, Roman took it from his hands, moving it to his lips. He rubbed the cool edge slowly across his bottom lip. "Just relax, baby. This is going to be so smooth once you get the hang of it. Open up." His voice lowered as he tilted the glass, the words stronger. "Spit it out and I swear I'll choke you unconscious and shove a tube up your ass. You want that?" 

"No, man." 

"Then just drink." 

Warm liquid washed an unexpected bitterness across his tongue before he started choking. Once he stopped, the glass returned and he swallowed the rest. "Good boy." 

Petted like a spaniel, he clenched back his desire to curse. Instead, he worked on strategy, to figure out the plan of his enemy so he could fight back. "You told me you'd explain about you and Jim." 

Fingers traced the edge of his jaw as Roman leaned in, his face very close to Blair's. "I did, and I will, but not just yet. That stuff's going to hit you quick, so I need you to get up and get undressed." 

"I can't do that with these cuffs on, man" He held them up, his mind racing, his eyes scanning for opportunity. 

"Get it out of your head to run, Blair. It'll only make it worse if I have to punish you on top of the rest." 

"The rest of what?" 

"The rest of what I have planned. Now stand up. I want you to go to the bathroom first. Then I'll take the cuffs off and you can go to sleep. You're going to want to do that a lot at first, just until your system gets used to it." 

He stood to find himself already dizzy. "Oh, man." 

"Yeah, I know. Come on." Pulling on his shirt sleeve, Roman led him to the toilet and reached down to unzip Blair's pants. 

"Don't. I can do it." 

"Then hurry up." 

"Are you going to stand there and watch?" 

"Might as well. I'm going to see it all in a minute anyway. Now go." 

Reluctantly, he undid his jeans, and after a few concentrated efforts managed a steady stream. As soon as he finished, he found Roman uncuffing his hands. "Now take it all off. Shoes and socks first." 

Nervously, he put down the lid of the toilet and did that. Then he unbottoned his shirt and slipped it off and slid his jeans to the floor. Sitting in his T-shirt and boxers, he wrapped his arms around his chest, the room floating. "I feel weird, man, so cold." 

"I'll bet. Come on. We'll take that stuff off later. I don't want to carry you." 

A strong arm helped him stand and guided him into the bedroom, the king-size bed stripped down to just sheets. Each of the four posts and headboard had hooks with chains looped through metal locks. Blair stalled, his legs numb, when he saw the leather cuffs. "Oh, man, please tell me this isn't happening." 

A push at his back landed him face down on the mattress and then strong hands flipped him back over. His whole body betrayed him, stayed still despite a panicked mind screaming to run, to kick, or bite. Instead he lay there as Roman stripped off the rest of his clothes and then fastened the cuffs on his ankles and his wrists, both arms together above his head. 

Enough slack let him shift a little, but the movement cost him. A wave of nausea rolled up, his eyes squeezed shut to fight back the terror of no control to even his own stomach. "I think I'm going to be sick." 

The chains loosened enough that he could turn on his side. A pillow propped his head up as the back of a hand tenderly stroked his face. "Just rest, baby. It's going to be all right. You'll get used to it. It's not really you, Kyle wants to hurt. You're just the unlucky son of a bitch stuck in the middle. Kyle survived it. You will, too. Now just go with it. The more you fight, the more it makes you crazy. Trust Kyle, baby. He won't let it hurt any more than it has to." 

"How can I trust you?" 

"You want to survive?" 

"Yes." Even the one word slurred on his drugged tongue. 

"Then you'll do what you have to." 

The voice floated away leaving cool air and blankness in its wake. Lying there, his body an alien structure, he imagined himself a shaman trapped between two worlds, a guide lost in the wrong jungle. In his mind, he focused on the inner journey, and prayed that Jim found him soon, rescued him before he lost his way back completely. 

* * *

Jim shook his head as he talked on the phone. "No, sir, I understand that, but he hasn't been seen since then..... Yes, I know it's not your responsibility .....I'm just asking that if you hear anything that you'll let us know. We're really worried down here at the station....Yes, sir, I'll do that, too." Slamming the receiver down, he found the air harder to take in. 

"No luck?" 

"No, sir. That was the dean and he talked to everyone Blair talked to this morning just like I did and no one knows a damn thing. How can somebody just disappear without a trace? His books, his car, everything's gone." 

"Did he say anything at all about leaving town for awhile?" 

Exasperated, Jim shook his head. "I told you something's wrong, Simon. Blair just wouldn't take off like this, not just because of me, but because of his friend Janie." 

"That's the friend who's sick?" 

"Yeah, look, have any of the street units called in?" 

"No, nothing." 

"Jesus, Simon, I'm really tapped out here. I've put out a feeler in every place I know and nothing's come back yet." Jim rubbed his mouth, his face pale, his head pounding. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do." 

"You do the hardest thing there is, Jim. You wait." 

"I can't do that. I have get out there and find him." 

"And look where?" Simon stepped closer, his voice a little softer. "Jim, we're all working on this. Blair's our friend, too. We'll find him, but it just might take some time." 

His eyes met Simon's, the ache across his chest restricting his effort to speak in a normal tone. "Damn it. I can't lose him. Not now." 

"Just settle down. It's not going to come to that." 

As he started to say something else, Rhonda interrupted. "Detective Ellison, there's a call on Line 2 from Detective Brown down in records." 

"Thanks." He picked up the phone and punched the number. "H, what's up?" 

"Jim, we've found twelve names of men you put away who've been released from prison over the last six months. I'm uploading the list, but I think there's one in particular you should look at." 

"Who's that?" 

"There's this one guy who's got a psych flag attached, some guy named Roman." 

"Kyle Roman?" 

"Yeah. He got out of prison two months ago. He's on the list of old cases you shared with Pendergrast." 

"Shit." He sat down behind his desk as he worked to keep his voice even. 

Simon touched his shoulder as he asked, "Jim, are you okay?" 

Ignoring his captain for the moment, he just shook his head as he rubbed his forehead, the insistent throb more painful than before. "Send it up along with the other names. Good work, H. I owe you." 

"No problem, man. I'm still doing the back search on names of the six months before that and I should have that ready in a few hours. Just let me know what you need." 

As soon as he hung up the phone, he turned to his monitor and clicked the file sent from records. On the screen a list of names flashed and he found the one name he hated to see. "Simon, I pray to God I'm wrong about this, but I think I know who has Blair." 

"You think he's been kidnapped?" 

"I hope not, but it seems the only explanation. We can check out this address, but I can guarantee it's a phony. It's one he's used before when he went underground." 

"Sounds like you know this Roman perp pretty well." 

"I do. He was a snitch I used in vice." 

"A snitch? Why does that name sound so familiar? Damn it, Jim. Please tell me this isn't the same guy that filed the brutality charges against you that got you transferred here." 

"It's the same guy, sir, and it's a long story. Can you call the Warden at the prison and get me in to talk to the prison shrink?" 

"Come to my office while I put in the call." Following behind his captain, Jim closed the door and sat down while Simon talked to Rhonda about the connection. 

Images of Kyle shocked his system, clicked his sight and hearing into overload, the overhead lights flickering and buzzing. Taking deeper breaths, he taunted himself for losing control. He didn't have time to waste with out-of-whack senses. Finding Blair came first. He'd deal with the guilt later, a lot later, after he had his partner back and safe. 

As soon as Simon hung up, he turned back to Jim. "You know this doctor may not want to talk about a patient." 

"I know that, but according to the record, Roman was mandated as part of his parole to stay on medication. If he's stopped taking it, which he probably has, I need to know what could happen." 

"Why are you so sure it's this Roman character?" 

"I thought he was still in prison, Simon, or I would've been keeping tabs on him. Kyle Roman is a severe headcase. He should've been sent to Conover, not prison, but because he was a hustler charged with assault and attempted murder of a cop, the DA didn't want to offer it as an option. Roman had a court appointed attorney so nobody bothered to fight for him. So, instead of going in for treatment, he was sent in to serve seven years. Don't you remember the trial?" 

"Attempted murder? Oh, hell. Now, I remember. He's that guy who tried to kill Jack, right?" 

"Yeah." 

"You said he made parole, so his parole officer should know where he is and if he's taking the medication." 

"Yeah, well, we both know how well that system works. I need to talk to his shrink. I can bet money, Kyle's been getting off all this time talking about his payback scheme. If I know what he said about his plans, then maybe I can find him." 

His whole body shaking, he imagined his partner in the hands the man who vowed to make him suffer for his betrayal. "Simon, when we find Roman, we'll find Blair." 

"Do you think he'll kill him?" 

"I don't know. He's crazy, Simon. A lot of what he did before never made any sense. One minute he was reasonable and lucid, the next minute he was another person. Whenever I was with him, it was like I was with two different people." 

"Are you saying he had multiple personalities?" 

"I'm not a shrink. I just know half the time I had no idea who I was talking to. He hated Jack and he hated me for letting him go to prison. If he's the one who has Blair, I've got no idea what he'll do. Knowing Kyle he could fall in love with him as easily as kill him." 

"What are you talking about, fall in love?" 

"He was a hustler who liked to talk too much and into pretending things meant more than they did. He was my _special_ snitch, Simon." 

Simon swallowed hard, his eyes squinted. "Jim, please tell me that doesn't mean what I think it means." 

"It means that I didn't always pay him with money, Simon. You told me how I was an asshole in vice. Well, I was worse than that. I was a stupid asshole who broke the rules and didn't give a shit who I fucked over or who I fucked. Kyle Roman hates me for good reason. Now, Blair may have to pay for that." 

"God, what a mess." 

"Yeah, you could say that." 

* * *

Blair opened his eyes slowly, the fuzzy film on his tongue trailing down into his throat. Trying to move he found his body still restricted, his muscles cramping. His groan brought a reaction, a voice from the end of the bed. "So, you teach, huh?" 

Shaking his head, his vision too cloudy, he tried to see a clear image of the man sitting near his feet. Kyle Roman sat with his legs crossed, leafing through his text book, his hair loose and flowing down to his shoulders. He wore Blair's reading glasses as he scanned the pages. 

"Yeah, anthropology." The words scratched his throat and the vibration throbbed at his temple. "My head hurts." 

"Yeah, I know. It'll get better though." Flipping a few more pages, his voice rode the air, firm but easy, far more relaxed than earlier. "I've been reading this stuff and some of it's pretty interesting. I especially like this section about territorial battles and tribal rituals involved in mating. Seems every culture has it's own little dance when it comes to deciding who gets to get fucked." 

"Could I have some water?" 

"Sure." Putting the book down, Roman stood up and brought back a tray with a pitcher of clear liquid and two glasses, one empty and one with the juice. "You need to get up and go to the restroom first. You've been sleeping almost ten hours." 

As he unlocked the cuffs, he helped Blair sit up and waited while the shaking stopped. "You'll do that for a few days, then it shouldn't be so bad once your tolerance goes up." 

"A few days? How long do you plan to keep me here?" 

Blair watched the handsome face stay passive, the dark brown eyes study him a few moments before he answered. "You're not having a good time?" 

Instead of sarcasm or anger, he heard concern. "I'm not used to being forced to take drugs, man. Being stripped and chained isn't what I'd call a good time." 

"Depends on the culture, Blair, or in this case, a subculture. It's just another dance. Do you understand what I'm trying to say here?" 

"Not really." 

"As an anthropology teacher, I'd think you know what was going on, but it could be the drugs that makes it so hard for you to understand. Plus, I have to admit, you're not at all what Kyle expected." 

"What did you expect?" 

"I don't know. But not someone like you. You're not the kind Jim usually takes to bed. It's like you really don't know the rules here." 

"We're not lovers, man. I told you that. I told you I won't lie and I'm not." 

"Then why are you living with him? He's not going to have a man who looks like you so close without fucking him, not the Jim Kyle knows. No way." 

Fighting down his own fear, Blair pushed to reason with the man standing by the bed, the man so different from the one who first chained him. "I don't know the man you're talking about." 

"You don't know Jim Ellison?" 

"Not the one you describe, no." 

Roman's face suddenly twisted, his eyes squeezed shut, his mouth open gulping air. Then he stood straighter and his voiced deepened. "God, what a fucking liar." 

The slap to the smaller man's jaw happened before he could prepare, the force sending him sideways on the bed. Blood flooded his tongue as his teeth cut the inside lip. Hands jerked him back up to meet another series of blows to his unguarded body before he found his back held tightly to Roman's chest with one hand, the other holding the juice forward to his mouth. "Drink it and don't choke. You do and I've got plenty more." 

Clearing his throat, forced to swallow his own blood, he drank the juice, this time with a definite flavor of alcohol mixed in. After he finished, a thumb wiped his split lip and whiskered chin, his red spit slick and smearing. His face and stomach ached from the beating, but then a calming hand caressed his cheek as a deep shushing voice cooed in his ear. A slow rocking calmed him as the warmth of the body holding him took away the spreading chill, the only protection offered from the person who just beat him, the man no longer in the bed. The same phrase chanted in his head over and over, "Where the hell is Jim?" 

* * *

"How are you feeling?" 

Blair's body checked in even more slowly than before, his muscles heavy, each bruise an extra weight complaining. "Pretty rough." 

"You need to get up and take a shower and wash your hair." 

Running his tongue along the crusty lower lip, the sharp taste of dried blood added to the sting of talking. He lifted his arms, still chained to the headboard. "It's a little hard to do that." 

"Yeah, I know. Hold on." Roman unlocked the leg cuffs first and then moved around to the headboard to release him. "Sit up slowly. Don't rush it." 

Good advice taken, Blair avoided the sweep of dizziness, but still found his body sluggish, unable to respond with its usual smoothness. He missed that, the immediate reaction he usually had, the clean movements he took so much for granted until the drugs dulled his reactions and fogged his thinking to webs. Detachment scared him and he wanted his life back. 

"You need any help to get to the bathroom?" 

"No, but I wouldn't mind some clothes, even a robe would be an improvement." 

"You're not comfortable with your body, are you?" 

"Not when I'm freezing my ass off, no. Not when I've got no choice in who's seeing me." 

A hand squeezed his shoulder gently, almost friendly. "Kyle likes to keep you off guard, off center. There's a robe in the bathroom. After you shower and shave, put it on and come to the table. I'll fix us some breakfast." 

Shaking his head, confused by the man who looked like his captor but acted nothing like him, he asked, "Who the hell are you?" 

"Call me Jeremy." 

"You look like Kyle Roman." 

"Yeah, I know. Everybody says that." Pushing the long brown hair back behind his right ear, he smiled, the good spirit genuine. "I don't see it myself. Look, go get cleaned up. You haven't eaten and you're dehydrated. Kyle has plans for later but right now he's not here. Take advantage of it while you still can. I can't always promise to be here." 

"Thanks for last night, man." 

"Yeah? I'm sorry he got so pissed. He's like that when you start defending Jim. I wish he hadn't hit you so much." Lifting the bruised chin, he caressed the cheek, while shaking his head. "Such a good face, too." He dropped his hand away and swallowed hard as he rubbed his forehead, the eyes squinted in an obvious pain. "You'd better hurry. Go on. Get showered and shaved. Then I'll feed you. You like eggs?" 

"I'm not really too hungry. The drugs make me queasy." 

"You need to eat, Blair. You've got a lot ahead of you, and Kyle doesn't cook." 

"Eggs are fine then. Scrambled." 

"Sure. That's the only way to cook the damn things. Isn't that how Jim has them?" 

"Yeah, it is." 

"I know. I remember that part, the morning after, when Kyle tried so hard, and Jim, well, Jim was Jim." 

"Kyle and Jim were lovers?" 

Snorting, stroking his fingers through the tangled curls, Jeremy shook his head. "Just figuring that out, Professor? I mean, I tried to warn Kyle, but he doesn't listen very well. His cock sort of runs his good sense sometimes. A man like Jim, he couldn't love a whore, not a man who sold his body even if it was to get what Jim wanted, information. That's all that your friend wanted, information. Didn't matter who Kyle had to fuck or blow." 

"That doesn't sound like Jim." 

"You don't think so? Doesn't matter. That's Kyle's Jim. That's the man he's after. The weird thing is, he's having a real problem with you. You're fucking up his plans something awful." A sudden laugh interrupted the soft stroking and then the hand landed on the back of his shoulder, pushing him up and toward the bathroom. "Yeah, keep him off balance, Professor. The more he's confused, the longer I can stay out." 

"And how do I do that?" 

"Just keep being you. He likes you, you're pretty and you remind him of what he always wanted to be and never will be. If he hurts you, he hurts himself. Of course, that's the problem. He likes hurting himself." 

"How does he hurt himself?" 

"Don't ask me, ask Kyle. I'm sure he'll tell you all about it later if you ask the right way. But, for right now, I'm hungry. Hurry up and shower. It's just not the same when Kyle's eating and I'm not." 

Jesus. 

As Jeremy climbed off the bed and headed for the kitchen, Blair shook his head, still confused and unclear, his mind muddied by mixed emotions. He pushed away his anxiety and entered the bathroom, determined to take advantage of the first private moment since he got there. After he relieved himself and washed his hands, he glanced in the mirror. The beard pretty much told him he'd been held at least a couple of days. Bruises purpled his cheek and chin and stood out against the too pale skin. 

Avoiding the image, he turned on the shower as hot as he could stand it and climbed in. Under the rush of delicious steam his slowly waking skin tingled, his muscles reporting in with loud complaints. Grabbing the soap and cloth, he carefully scrubbed every inch, washing away the stench of his own fear, his sweat, and most of all his shameful impotence at finding freedom. He hated feeling helpless, at being at the mercy of someone who could terrorize him any moment without warning. Thinking about desertion by his sentinel didn't help. The chant of where's Jim gave him a headache, blasting his defenses, making him doubt he even knew the man he called partner and friend. 

With new vigor and determination to escape, he shampooed and rinsed, got out of the shower and wrapped himself in the luxury of the blue bathrobe hanging on the door. Combing and pulling his hair back quickly, he then brushed his teeth. After he found the shaving supplies and, despite the painful scraping over wounds and the shaky hands, he took off the whiskers. The man staring back, his blue eyes almost clear and focused, looked familiar, no longer quite as haggard or frightened. 

When he walked out and sat down at the table, Jeremy turned and smiled as he served the eggs. "Now, that's better. Eat." 

The first forkful brought a quick wave of nausea, but he closed his eyes and concentrated on the need to steady himself. After a few moments later, he not only swallowed, but ate several more bites followed by toast. "This is good, Jeremy. Thanks." 

"It's good to cook for someone who appreciates it." Jeremy leaned back in his chair, his breakfast already finished while Blair continued eating. "You need to let your hair down though. I don't like it back. Neither does Kyle. He likes your hair. Reminds him of his first lover David Goldstein. Beautiful David. Looked a lot like you, really, except his eyes were dark brown. Dark chocolate, almost semi-sweet, they were so black. Kyle really loved David." 

"Yeah? What happened?" 

"He died. AIDS. Seven years ago." 

The gut punch of the words stopped his movements. "AIDS? Does Kyle have AIDS?" 

"No. The prison tested for that. Amazing really considering how many people he let fuck him bare, including Jim. Luck was never Kyle's strong point. Still, I guess that's some consolation." 

"I'd think it'd be a big one." 

"Yeah, you would, but Kyle doesn't much care right now. He's wondering if he's wasting his time going after Jim by using you. I think it would've helped if you weren't so much like David." 

"Does that mean he's going to let me go?" 

"I don't think so. He's thinking. That's why I'm here. When he decides or if he gets pissed, you'll know." 

"Like last night?" 

"Yeah. Like last night. You know what's going on, don't you?" 

"I think so. You know about Kyle, but he doesn't know about you." 

"He thinks I'm his inner voice. He doesn't know I really exist, that I can come out when he's busy sleeping or just conflicted. Last time he got in a quandary about what to do, I got to stay out almost a week. It was great except the part when his lover in prison didn't know the difference. Jake was an asshole to say the least. Still I enjoyed getting out, going to the library. I like to read and find out things. Might even have gone to college if Jack hadn't sent Kyle to prison." 

Nodding, desperately trying to recall details from his psych class, Blair asked, "Isn't there a way you could stay out all the time? I mean, nothing against Kyle, but he's a little unstable." 

"Thank god, or I wouldn't be here." 

"Good point." 

"You haven't touched your juice, Blair. Why not?" 

His throat dry again, he shook his head. "Not thirsty." 

"You think I drugged it?" 

"No, I just don't like apple juice." 

Standing up, his body tense, the man stepped closer and then stood behind the chair, hands squeezing both the grad student's shoulders. Lips pulled back in a sneer, the words coming out in a different voice, he leaned forward and hissed in the right ear. "I told you to never lie to me, Blair. I told you I'd know." 

Startled by the sudden change, Blair tried to stand, but found himself forced to stay seated. "I wasn't lying." 

Fingers wrapped around his neck from behind, lightly at first and then harder. "It would be so easy to end this now." 

"Shit. Stop. I can't breathe, man." His own hands pulled at Roman's, resisting and struggling to open them, his words choked off. 

"Then drink." Kyle's muscular hands released him and Blair reached for the glass and brought it to his lips. "Go on. All of it." 

And one more time he drank, swallowing painfully as the bitter liquid stung his swollen lips. As Kyle stood behind him undoing his hair, combing it with his spread fingers, he didn't need Jeremy to warn him about time growing short. The aching muscles in his neck explained that looking like an old lover named David wouldn't protect him much longer. 

* * *

Waking found him wrapped in a warm embrace, arms holding him close to a bare chest so much like his partner's. Still foggy, hope his dream, he prayed out loud. "Jim?" 

A mutter in his ear mocked his disappointment. "No, baby, just me." 

A quick lick followed by a deep-throated growl drew him closer, a leg up over his bare spread thighs. A dragging friction teased a lazy cock, a slow thickening as a hand moved to hold him, stroked him in an easy rhythm. A soft whisper assured him, pushed away his guard. "It's okay, Blair. Don't be afraid. Just feel it. Feels good, lover. So good like this between us. I won't let him hurt you. I promise." 

Over and over he heard his dream protector's words shifted to Jeremy's smooth voice. "Trust me, baby. Just let me love you." And the gentle hands petted his bound body. Every shift away brought more restriction, every attempt to struggle another plea for his surrender to desire. Lips suckled his neck, soft kisses trailed along stunned lips. His whole body dulled, but responding, reacting against his mind's warnings, good judgment ignored as his cock grew harder, twitched and stood up begging for more. Moans welled up at each teasing bite to hungry nipples, blurry eyes unable to function to clear his sight, to see the man spreading him open to greedy touches. 

"Stop. Please. I can't do this." Slurred, the words stumbled out, barely formed, his throat too swollen and dry. 

"You don't mean that, baby. Your body can't lie. You want me." A mouth locked to his, swallowing his pleas, another tongue overwhelming his, his lungs blocked from breathing. 

Between his legs a fist worked him, his traitorous hips pumping faster, his belly muscles more tight, gripping bones like weapons. Need holding him hostage to his own pleasure, he squeezed weak eyes shut and his mind floated on the cushion of flight, the sizzle through his back exploding both his balls and cock to his brain, his skull blown to dust into blackness. Screaming out Jim's name, his body arched up to find nothing but pressure shoved deep inside him, pain searing to his spine, slicing him open until he knew nothing and fell into the dark spiral of both relief and utter confusion. 

* * *

"Well, the doctor was pretty much a waste of time." 

Simon slumped back down behind his desk, his hand rubbing his forehead, the headache obvious before he even pulled out the aspirin bottle. "Yeah, but we figured he would be. Come on, man, think. You know this guy. Isn't there anything in that file that might give us a clue about where he'd take Blair?" 

"Don't you think I'd say something if I knew? Shit, Simon, this is killing me here." He stood at the window and leaned his head against the glass, the coolness a brief comfort before he stood up. "I've tried to go through everything I have. I've even gone through my old notebooks as well as Jack's, but there's nothing. My memory of that time is so disjointed. I can't seem to get anything to make sense." 

After swallowing his tablets, Simon shook his head as he dropped the container into the drawer. Leaning back, he whispered. "Do you think the kid's still alive?" 

Covering his mouth with both hands, Jim rubbed several times before he spoke again, his throat almost too tight to push air. "God, Simon, I hope so." 

"Me, too." 

"It's just that I thought Roman would call by now, try to taunt me. I figured if he did that, I could play him a little, try to get him to give me some clue about where he's hiding. This silence isn't like what I expected at all." 

Just as Simon started to speak, the phone rang. "Simon Banks.... Yes? Then send back up. We're on our way." 

"What?" 

"They've found Blair's car." 

Almost afraid to ask, Jim's question came out breathy as both men headed for the door, "Where?" 

"Out by the county line, about an hour outside of the city, in the Keystone's parking lot." 

"The Keystone? Shit." Getting into the elevator, Jim punched the button with new hope behind his movements. "Damn it, Simon. I know where he is. Son of a bitch." 

"What?" 

"I thought he'd burned it down, hell, I know he did. He showed me the fucking ash and timbers one night, but he must've rebuilt it." 

"Talk to me, Jim. Tell me what's going on." 

Meeting his friend's eyes as they reached ground floor, ready to run out, he spoke in a rush. "He's at his dad's place, Simon. Shit. It's only a mile north of that bar on the first side road on the right. " 

"What?" 

"That's where his dad molested him as a kid. That's where he said he learned how to be a whore." 

"Shit." 

"And that's where I'll bet money he has Blair." 

Simon caught Jim's arm and stopped before getting in the car. "What's he going to do, Jim? What aren't you telling me?" 

"I don't know, Simon. I swear. Kyle's crazy. I don't have a clue what to expect. Let's just go. If he left the car where we can find it, then time's running out." 

As he and Simon climbed in the police cruiser, Jim shut out the words as his captain gave the directions for the other units. Flashes broke through his memory as he watched the man he knew as Kyle Roman kneeling in the charred remains of his father's house, smiling, saying he wished his father had been in the house when he burned it. The sinking heart tightened as he imagined his partner in the hands of a man who repeated his own pains and tragedies like breathing. Squeezing his eyes shut while his friend drove, Jim Ellison relived the gut ache of crashing and losing his men in Peru, the terrible sense of hearing every scream mingled with twisted metal and each single heartbeat fading. His eyes stinging, he prayed his mistakes wouldn't claim the one soul that mattered even more than his own, the man he swore to protect, the guide he loved. 

"Fuck the traffic, Simon. Drive faster." 

* * *

Light filtered slowly through the fading numbness, aches cramping unfamiliar muscles in his lower back and legs. Moving brought pain, so he stayed still until the feather touch of fingers walked across his chest. "You're awake, Blair. Open your eyes for me. Stop hiding." 

Clearing his throat, he took a deeper breath before braving the brightness. Even then he squinted, the spikes stabbed at his temples in an unpleasant rhythm. Jeremy sat on the edge of the bed smiling, his palm soothing his chest, stroking the hair in circles. An involuntary shudder reminded him of the haunting dream, the sensory images raking through him with each tingle of nail against his skin. 

"I need to get up." 

"Not yet. In a minute maybe. How are you feeling? Did he hurt you?" 

"Who?" 

"Kyle. I couldn't stop him. I'm sorry." 

Shaking his head, his vision swam with the unexpected motion. "He tried to choke me, but I'm okay." 

Touching his neck, fingertips carefully traced bruises, smoothing the flesh. His hand slowly ran along the center line of his chest, down past his navel, stopping as he teased the pubic hair just above the limp cock. "You've got bruises and bites all over. Looks like he got hungry." 

"What?" 

"Kyle. He tends to get carried away sometimes." Brown eyes stared down into his as his mind flashed back to the dream, to the crazy passage of images packed away deep under the misty cover of false visions. 

Jeremy's steady voice softened even more than usual, the concern sincere. "You don't remember, do you?" 

"There's nothing to remember. The drugs make me see things, feel things that aren't real." 

"Is that what you believe?" 

"I have to. It's just a dream, man. This whole thing will be over just as soon as Jim gets here." Jeremy smoothed back his hair, the sweaty curls clinging to his forehead. 

"Uncuff me, Jeremy. Please. I need to sit up." 

"Kyle's not happy with me. He's fighting all the time now." Raising both hands, he rubbed his face several times. When he spoke, it came out a whisper. "I don't want him to hurt you again, Blair, but I can't stop him. He's just so pissed." 

"Kyle has every right to be pissed. So, do you. I mean, look at how Jim treated him, treated both of you. Jim's a cop and he should've known better. It wasn't right, man." 

"No, it wasn't." Teasing back a curl, his voice lightened, practically floated between them. "You understand now, don't you?" 

"Yeah, I do." 

"I'm glad. That makes Kyle happy. He knows you're not lying." 

"I wouldn't lie about something like that. Now, come on. Let me up, man. I'm not going to run. I just have to go to the bathroom." 

"You promise?" 

"I promise." 

Nodding, Jeremy stood up and unlatched the cuffs, this time giving each ankle and wrist a silent light kiss before he released it. His lips to Blair's skin tingled his body, the intimate touch a blessing. After he helped him sit up, he caressed the whiskered cheek, his words hushed. "I'll get us some water and juice, okay? It's going to be fine, Blair. This is going to work, I just know it. God, I think I'm falling for you, Professor." A hand lovingly smoothed back his hair and then pulled away, the emptiness of his absence spreading like cold melting ice. 

As soon as he left the room, Blair lowered his face to his hands, his body trembling with the flood of sensations. Trying to steady himself, he stood only a brief moment before pain across his lower back forced him to sit down again. Shivering, he reached over and pulled the sheet from the end of the bed, wrapping it around his shoulders, his blood too chilled and sluggish to move in his veins. 

In the distance he heard smashing wood, shouting, and gunfire. Curses and cries too loud murdered his thinking, dropped him to his side as he pulled up his knees to hide in the darkness, to rid himself of anymore screams. Drifting there, withdrawn into silence, he saw Jim's face in the distance, blue eyes like beacons calling him back to the light. Instead, he closed his own eyes, muffling the anger, drawing in the hurt like long, thick ribbons to bandage his bleeding heart while praying that this time the dream of rescue survived the waking. 

* * *

"Jim, settle down." 

"I can't settle down, Simon. You saw what I saw, that bed, the chains. My god." His mouth open, he gulped the air, forcing down the rising bile. "You saw him. The bruises and the blood." The last few words came out a whisper. 

"He's alive, and according to the doctor he should be okay. Other than the barbiturates in his system, he's dehydrated and in shock. Otherwise he's in pretty good shape considering what he's probably been through over the last three days." 

"We both know what happened to him." 

"We don't know anything about that for sure, at least not yet. Blair's too out of it right now to make a statement. Hell, with all the drugs in his system, he may not even remember most of it. And, frankly, that could be a blessing." 

Standing, he paced in front of the window of the private family conference room, the pressure of containing his rage pounding in his brain. "This is so unfair, Simon. Blair never hurt anybody. He doesn't deserve this." 

"Hell, nobody deserves this, Jim." 

"I know that." 

"Let's just be grateful he's alive." 

Nodding, he found himself swallowed by a wave of grief, the dark grabbing of it dragging him into a fog of anxious energy. He sat down across from his captain and rubbed his thighs several times, slowing his breathing before he could speak. "I am grateful. It's just hard to block out the picture of him curled up and lying there afraid to be touched. He could see me, but he just looked through me." 

"It's the shock. You know that. You've seen it before." Putting a hand on his friend's shoulder, he added, "He's tough, Jim. He's going to get though this, but he's going to need our help." 

Hanging his head, his hand covering his eyes, words resisted his tongue. "I don't know how to help him with something like this." 

"Then you'll learn. We've got counselors for things like this. He's your partner, so you can work on this thing together." 

"I wasn't the one kidnapped and abused." 

"No, but you're the one sitting here feeling responsible because you couldn't stop it." 

Swallowing the truth sliced his gut. "It's more than that and you know it." 

"Yeah, I do. So, what are you going to do about it?" 

"What can I do?" 

"I don't have any easy answers, Jim, but I do know one thing." 

"What's that?" 

"If you're too busy feeling sorry for yourself, you're not going to be a hell of a lot of help to Blair. Do whatever you have to, but get that emotional baggage cleared out so he comes first. He deserves that much." 

"No argument there." 

"Gentlemen?" The nurse stood in the doorway. "The doctor said you could see Mr. Sandburg now." 

"Thank you." Jim took a deep breath and stood to follow his captain out the door and down the hallway. 

As he entered the room, he saw the doctor putting another notation on the chart as he turned. "Captain Banks, Detective. He's going to be here at least for overnight. We'll see how he does and then talk later, okay?" 

"Okay." The word came out automatically as he scanned his partner's slow, but steady vital signs, the young man in the bed lying with his free arm up over his eyes to block out the lights. A bandage covered his right cheek, but other bruises discolored his face and all along and around his neck. 

A standard strangulation presentation. Shit. Jim pushed away the police mode and stepped to the side of the bed, ignoring the words between his captain and the doctor, his whole attention focused on his friend. 

Bracing himself against the raised rail, he whispered. "Hey, Chief." When he didn't get an answer, he asked again. "You awake there, Blair?" 

"You know I am, Jim." 

"How you doing?" 

"Fine." 

"Yeah?" Glancing up he caught Simon watching, the doctor no longer present. He turned his attention back to Blair. "You're safe here for now. You don't have to worry about anyone hurting you again." 

"Kyle's dead?" 

"Yes. He had a gun when we entered. I had no choice." 

Shifting to his side, his back to Jim, Blair kept his eyes closed as he pulled up the covers. "So, Jeremy's dead, too, then." 

"Jeremy?" 

"Kyle drugged me, wanted to hurt me. Jeremy helped keep me alive and now he's dead." 

Confused, Jim touched his friend's shoulder only to have him jerk away. "But there wasn't anyone else in the house, Chief. We looked. There was only Kyle." 

"There was never only Kyle, Jim." 

"You're losing me here." 

"Doesn't matter, man. He's dead." Shifting down into the bed, his legs pulled up and the cover high over his neck, his voice sounded almost too exhausted to speak. "I'm tired." 

"I know. Just go to sleep. I'll be here." 

"Go home. Simon, make him go. I need to be alone right now." 

The captain nodded and moved to Jim's side. "Come on. The kid needs some time to himself." 

"But I need to stay here, sir." He pushed off the guiding hand resting on his shoulder. "I want to stay. Blair, listen to me. I want to be here in case you need me during the night." 

"Go home, Jim. Please." 

One more time his friend took his arm and pulled him toward the door, his heart torn between his own need to guard the man he'd failed to protect and doing what Blair wanted. 

"Shit, Chief, don't do this. I want to stay." 

Suddenly, anger pushing words out, Blair's blue eyes focused on Jim's. "And I don't want to fucking see you, man. Now go away." The burst of energy draining, his head drooped back to the pillow, his eyes squeezed shut, his whole body still. Very quietly he spoke, the words merely a whisper. "Everything's mixed up. I need some time, Jim." 

"Okay. I can do that, but I'll be back in the morning." Standing in the doorway, the vision of his friend's anger aimed right at him, he steeled himself to take any and everything his friend threw in his direction. "We're going to work this out, Chief. I promise." 

Only silence and an involuntary shudder of his guide's shoulders answered. 

* * *

Jim hated hospitals, the smell of death and painful moans too difficult to block, so intrusive. No matter how he dialed down or focused, some of it slipped in, always there nagging at his mind, reminding it existed, always waiting for his turn. 

He rubbed his forehead again and watched his friend staring at the ceiling, his body too still, his fingers not moving. A quiet Blair scared him. "Chief, you need to eat something. At least drink the juice." 

Ignoring him for the third time, Blair turned his head away, not speaking. "Okay, I know you can hear me. What's going on in your head? 

The silent treatment continued even as Jim stood up and moved to stand by the bed. He lifted the lid on the untouched plate and shook his head. "Well, I can't say I blame you for not wanting to eat this shit. It's pretty nasty. Still, if you want to get out of here, you're going to have to eat or drink something. It's been two days now and you're still dehydrated and your kidneys aren't right. Without an IV you've got to give them something to work with. So, what do you say? A little juice, some tea? How about I get you some of those herbal blends? I'll have Joel or Simon stop by the loft and get some. How about it, Chief? What do you say?" 

"Jim, you're giving me a headache." 

"My god, it speaks." 

"Not as much as you do." 

"Not now maybe, but give yourself a day or two and you'll be up and running in no time." Relieved that his friend finally reacted with more than a frown, he nudged harder. "So, you want me to order something else from the menu?" He patted the top of the food warmer and added, "Or they could pop this lovely cuisine right back in the microwave and heat it up." 

"I'm not hungry." 

"I know that. But you still have to eat." 

Sighing, the younger man nodded and scooted up a little higher in the bed, his movements stiff. Swallowing hard, still avoiding meeting Jim's eyes, he picked up the cup of water and drank slowly. After a few swallows, he cleared his throat and tried again, the action obviously painful. Once he finished, he picked up the fork, but put it back down. "I can't. I'm sorry." 

"Okay, but how about just finishing the juice?" 

"Jesus, Jim, would you just stop. You're not my mother. I told you before I don't want any juice." He eyed the bottle and shook his head, closing his eyes against painful memories. 

Undaunted and unable to leave it alone, he pushed again. "What's your problem with juice all of a sudden?" 

His voice rasped out the words, words that chilled in their simple explanation. "He put the drugs in the juice. I'm sorry, man. It's stupid, but I just can't drink it." 

Biting his lip, his barely contained anger played havoc with his gut, tiny punches even up into his throat. "It's not stupid. I'll tell the nurse to get you something else, maybe a sport's drink or something." 

"Okay." Toying with the edge of the tray, Blair kept his eyes down and his voice low. "Look, Jim, I know you're trying to help, but this hovering is too hard to deal with." 

Jim stood up straight, defensive, but not leaving. Crossing one arm around his chest, the other one stroked his mouth a few times before he spoke. "Is it just me you're pissed with or everyone who cares about you in general?" 

"I'm not pissed at anybody. I'm just trying to figure some things out in my head." 

"What things?" 

"Jim, please, I'm tired. I can't talk about all this right now. I just need some time. It's not just you." 

"But you are finally admitting that it's partly me?" 

"Yeah, maybe." After a long pause, Blair spoke, his words even, but still hesitant. "Jeremy and Kyle told me some things about you, some not very nice things. It's hard to put those together with what I know about you as my friend." 

"What kind of things?" His hands shook as he braced himself against the rail. 

"You already know what things, Jim." 

"How could I?" Even as he said it, he knew, he knew from the time he realized Kyle took his partner that Blair would find out. Secrets never stayed quiet, but screamed their way to the calm level surface of your life to shatter it with their spiteful, destructive voices. 

"Are you going to deny Kyle Roman was your lover?" 

"We slept together, but he was never really a lover, Chief." 

"God, I can't believe you." 

"What?" 

"You slept with him and he loved you." 

"Kyle Roman and I slept together, that's true. But I didn't love him and as far as I could tell, Kyle didn't love anything but money." He pushed the slap of memory away reminding him of the kind touches, the pleas for affection he couldn't handle and ignored. Instead, he just said, "He was a hustler, Chief, a snitch and a whore who sold himself to the highest bidder." 

"That is so harsh, man." 

"I'm sorry, but that's the way it was." 

"And what about Jack? They said that you and Jack were together. Is that true?" 

"Yeah, it's true." 

"Jesus, Jim, why didn't you tell me?" 

"It's history, Blair. There was no reason to tell you." 

"Fuck reason. You should've told me." Slamming his fist into the sheets beside him, he shook his head. "I'm your guide, Jim. You should've told me." 

"I'm sorry, Chief. You're right. I should have." 

Nodding, his breathing still rapid, his words came out tight. "I know you're sorry, but are you sorry that you didn't tell me or that I found out?" 

"Both, I guess. 

"It hurts too much to think you don't trust me." 

"I do trust you. I trust you more than anybody I've ever had in my life." 

"Yeah, well, those are just words, Jim." During the long silence, Blair brought the covers up, his knees slightly raised. His head fell back, his dark curly hair fanned out across the white pillows, his face still bruised and tense. 

Jim ached to touch that hair, to bring it to his face, to lose himself in the dark light. Instead, he just waited until Blair spoke again, his tired voice slightly dreamy. "I think Jeremy was starting to trust me. I think I might have been able to save him if I'd had more time." 

"Jeremy who? Did Kyle have another hostage that we missed?" 

Meeting Jim's confused eyes, he tried to explain, his voice still floaty, the words only testing the air. "In a way, I guess he was a kind of hostage." 

"In a way how?" 

"Jeremy was like Kyle's alter ego, his other personality. At first I thought he was just trying to confuse me, but it was real, Jim. It was like Jeremy was this completely different person from Kyle." 

"And this Jeremy part was good to you?" 

"Yeah, he was." Unmistakable regret flavored the answer, Blair's face saddened by the memory. "It's like Kyle Roman had such an awful life, man, and he did some really terrible things, but deep inside there was this really great guy who tried to help me. He just couldn't get away from Kyle." 

Trying to understand, but still baffled, Jim shook his head as he spoke quietly. "But, Chief, he was the same guy who hurt you." 

"No, he wasn't, man. Don't you get it? Kyle Roman was truly fucked up, no doubt about that. He hated you and Jack and he wanted to get back at you through me, but despite that hatred, deep down he couldn't really do it. There was a part that wanted to stop." 

"But he still hurt you." 

"I know that. But I wish things could've been different." 

"So, what do we do here, Chief?" 

"I don't know, man. I really don't." Blair turned over on his side, his eyes misty and unfocused, the grief of so many losses so close together wearing down his strength. 

"Well, you know I'm not one for shrinks, but maybe we should try to see somebody about this." 

"We?" 

"Well, yeah. I mean, I'm partly to blame for all this." 

"You really think that?" Blair's questioning tone surprised him. 

"If I hadn't been such an asshole back when I was in vice, maybe Kyle wouldn't have come after you like he did." 

"You don't know that, Jim." 

"No, I don't, but if I'd been honest with you from the beginning, maybe you wouldn't hate the sight of me like you do." 

"I don't hate the sight of you." A small snort and a shake of his head brought Blair's lips into a frustrated frown, his brow wrinkled as he turned and stared at Jim's hand. 

"Seems like it. I wouldn't blame you if you did." 

"I'm pissed, but I don't hate you. I could never do that." 

"Why not?" 

"Jim, just leave it alone." The words hustled the air, anxious to be heard. 

"I can't. I need to hear an answer here. Look, I know this is shitty timing. You're in the hospital and you should be here just trying to get well, but I'm a selfish bastard. I need to know why you could never hate me." 

"Well, you are a selfish bastard, that's true." His friend's first attempt to smile pleased him, but he controlled the desire to reach over and stroke the damage cheek. Before he could say anything, Blair touched his hand, the bruise on his own wrist darker than the day before. "I love you, Jim. And no matter what you've done in the past, it doesn't really matter to me. It might disappoint me, but it doesn't change how I feel about the person you are now." 

The swell of words sounded like a chorus, a declaration, words he so needed to believe. "I love you, too, Chief." 

"Well, that's a start then." 

"A start of what?" 

"A start of what we have to do." 

"Which is?" 

"Start being honest." 

* * *

"Thanks, Simon. Later." Just as Jim walked into the office, Blair stopped. "Hey, man." 

"Hey, Chief. I thought you were at school all day today." 

"Yeah, well, I needed to see Simon." Nervously he folded the paper in his hand and stuffed it in his pocket. "Look, I'll see you at home later. I need to go see Janie." 

"Okay. Why don't I take us out to eat afterwards when you get home?" 

Glancing back at Simon and then at Jim, he shook his head. "I don't know. Maybe." 

As he started to leave, Jim touched his sleeve only to have his friend pull away. "Later, Jim." 

Unsettled, but determined to be patient, Jim held back his questions. "Later. Oh, and be sure to take your cell phone." 

His shoulders suddenly tense, Blair looked up. "Didn't help much last time." 

Before he could say anything else, the younger man walked through the bullpen, ignoring the elevators and taking the stairs. 

"Shit." 

"Jim, you're standing right in my doorway. You want to come in or go out?" 

"In, sir." 

"Then do it." 

Motioning his thumb in Blair's direction, he spoke as he walked in and shut the door. "Why did he want to see you?" 

Simon tilted his head and frowned. "If he wants to tell you, he will." 

"So it's some kind of secret?" 

"Leave it alone. The kid has enough problems." 

"And secrets don't help." He stood by the window, his stomach clenched at one more question gnawing and hungry, one more division of trust. 

"I'm worried about him, Jim. He's exhausted and he's lost more weight." 

"Tell me about it." He sighed, his head bowed for a brief moment. "He's too quiet. He won't talk to me at home anymore. I mean, we talked at the hospital and I guess I thought we'd get through this, but he's shutting me out." 

"He's shutting out everybody. Not just you. Stan Lacy tried to talk to him about the support group and brought him a list of names of people to talk to and he basically blew him off." 

"I don't think a support group's going to do it, Simon." 

"It's been almost two weeks. Has he made arrangements to see anybody about this?" 

"No. He said we'd go together, but so far every time I bring it up, he's going off to school or to see his friend Janie." 

"The woman who has cancer?" 

"He told you about that?" 

Simon shrugged as he reached to get his coffee. "Yeah, I guess he remembered that my sister had cancer and wanted to know how I dealt with it." 

Surprised, Jim stepped closer to the desk. "How did you deal with it?" 

"Not very well, I'm afraid. I just sort of pretended it didn't exist. Worked pretty much non-stop until it was too late." 

"I remember when she died a few years ago." 

"Yeah. I should've been there for her more." Looking out the window, Simon stared off, seeing more than just the roof tops. "I didn't know how to handle losing someone I loved, Jim. I mean, violence and sudden death, I handle, but watching someone suffer and not being able to change that, well, that's a whole different story, man." 

"I know. So, you told Blair all this?" 

"Yeah. He's a good listener and a lot more concerned about other people than himself. I just wish I'd had something more helpful to say." 

"There aren't many things to say, sir." Dancing his fingertips along the edge of the desk, he paused trying to think of a way to say what he needed to ask next. 

"Okay. Out with it." 

"I wanted to see his report, but they said you had it along with his statement." 

"You've seen his statement." 

"Yeah, what there is of it. He says he doesn't remember most of what happened." 

"Which is consistent with being practically overdosed on barbiturates the whole time he was there. We're talking near-lethal amounts, Jim. As for the rest of it, what's the point?" 

"I don't think that's for you to decide." 

"No, but Blair requested that his medical records, except for the drug levels in his system, be omitted and kept private. That's his right and I'm not going to question it. Roman's dead and there's no prosecution and therefore no need to have it in there." 

Even more worried, Jim covered his mouth, his cold palm heated by his own breath. "Have you read it?" 

"Yes." 

"Has Blair?" 

"I don't think so, but I don't know for sure." Simon leaned back in his chair, his face serious and focused. "Jim, this is something you and Blair have to work out. You want my advice, get the kid's ass in to see a counselor as soon as you can." 

"I've been trying, Simon. And you know how much I hate shrinks. Had enough of those guys in the army, but, I swear, I'd check myself into a psych ward right this second if it would help." 

Simon grinned and relaxed. "Well, that wouldn't help much." 

"And why's that?" 

"Because Sandburg would get my ass busy and in trouble breaking you out." 

"He does have a way of making people do things." 

"Kid could talk a fish out of the water to go hiking." 

Nodding, Jim thought of Blair in his special fishing hat, his sunglasses down on his nose as he reeled in his first big catch. The fond memory nudged him toward the door. "I'll talk to you later, Simon. Thanks." 

"Where are you going?" 

"Fishing." 

"Now? It's the middle of winter." 

"Yep. See you tomorrow." In his mind he imagined one guppy in particular he wanted on his line. 

* * *

He closed the book and then walked over to stir the bubbling tomato sauce. Working hard not to check the time again, he drank another sip of beer and worried about why Blair still hadn't come home. Just as he did another mental list of things that needed cleaning, he heard his friend's keys rattle outside. 

As soon as the door opened, he calmed his own heartbeat and smiled. "Hey, Chief." 

"Jim." His name spoken so softly, woven by that voice, touched him. He couldn't explain why, but he knew that Blair could ask him to do anything and he'd do it. As the younger man hung up his coat and looked around, he stopped moving and said his name again. "Jim?" 

"Yeah?" 

"What's going on?" 

"I thought we could have some time together tonight." 

"So, is that why the lights are mostly off, the fireplace is going, and your favorite jazz is playing in the background?" 

"You don't like jazz?" 

"I love jazz, Jim. But, I'm tired and with the lights off, I'm more likely to fall asleep than talk much." 

"If you fall asleep, that's fine, too. You need the rest." 

"Don't start that." Walking over to the stove, he sniffed the air above the pot as Jim stirred in some more Italian herbs. "Smells pretty good. You know, if you ever get tired of being a cop, you could be a chef or something." 

"Or something." He smiled as Blair turned and grabbed a beer from the refrigerator, the gentle banter between them familiar and welcome after a long absence. 

His friend walked over to the window, drank a few long swallows, and then put the beer on the coffee table. He dropped down on the couch and rested his head back, his hands up and rubbing his eyes. "Man, I fucking hate hospitals." 

"Is that where you were?" 

"Yeah. Janie had to go back in. She got an infection around the IV port they put in for her chemo." His words choked, his voice near breaking. "She's getting worse, Jim, not better. It's all happening so fast." 

Turning down the burner to warm, he moved to sit down next to his partner. "I'm sorry, Chief. Is there anything I can do?" 

"No, that's the problem. Nobody seems to be able to do much of anything. It's really frustrating." 

"So, how's Janie dealing with it?" 

"It's amazing to me how great she's been. I mean, she's been more worried about me than herself, which is crazy. I'm not the one with cancer." 

"No, but you were hurt." 

Shaking his head, his eyes still closed, he whispered, "It's not the same, Jim. It's not. I'm not dying even though sometimes...." 

"Sometimes what, Chief?" 

"Nothing, man." 

Suddenly angry, his patience grabbed by concern, he pushed the words out. "Don't do that. Don't start to say something so important and just stop. Tell me what you were going to say." His fear settled, he softened his voice. "Please." 

After a long pause, Blair finally sat up and turned to face him. "Don't get pissed. I know it's stupid and it's only for an instant, but sometimes this really dark voice tells me that it'd be so much easier if I could just end this really bad pain I get whenever I try to think about what happened." 

"End it how?" 

"You know." 

"No, I don't know." 

"I told you it was stupid, man. I don't really think about it more than a second or two and then I push it away. It's just that only once before in my whole life did it ever get this bad in my head, so bad that I couldn't get everything under control. It kind of scares me." 

"Well, hell, Chief, join the crowd, because you're scaring the shit out me here." 

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to. I'm just a little fucked up." 

"No shit." Swallowing down his own pain, he touched his friend's shoulder, grateful he didn't pull away. "Listen to me. This is not something to screw with. I know you usually try to handle things on your own, but I told you before I want this thing between us to work out and I meant that. You pull a stunt like hurting yourself and I'll be more pissed off than you've ever seen me." 

"That's pretty pissed off." 

"You bet." 

Sheepishly, Blair looked away, but he leaned in a little closer, his shoulder against Jim's. "I'm not really thinking about it. It just sort of sneaks up on me. You don't really have to worry about it." 

"Sure I do. I love you, Blair. I meant that. You know how I am. It's hard for me to say how I feel, but you have to know how much I depend on you, how much I need you in my life." 

His voice hushed, almost shyly, Blair nodded. "Yeah, man, but it's really nice to hear." 

"Then hear this. I don't want there to be anymore secrets between us. Anything you want to know about my past, I'll tell you. I'm not even sure why I never told you before, except maybe I was afraid of what you'd think if you found out what a rotten bastard I used to be." 

"That might explain why you didn't tell me about Kyle, but not about Jack. I probably should've figured it out, but it just went right by me. I think it was the Emily thing that threw me. I mean, if you and Jack were together, why did he go out with Emily and why did you end up sleeping with her?" 

"God, Chief, you don't start out with any hard questions, huh?" 

"I need to know." 

"I loved Jack, but he didn't love me. Sure, we messed around whenever it was convenient, but Jack had this thing about not being gay. Didn't want anyone to know about our buddy fucks as he called them." 

Shifting his back in closer, Blair settled in his arms. The tight warmth along the entire front of his body soothed him, gave the hard words a voice. "I really loved him, Chief." 

"That must have been really hard, huh?" 

"Yeah, it was. I mean, the first time he saw me, he told me to take out the earring so the bad guys wouldn't get the wrong idea. That night, as soon as we were alone, my god, he about ate my ear off. From then on, whenever we were alone, I had to wear it. Still, he hated the idea of being gay, just couldn't deal with all the baggage. So, he dated Emily." 

"And you fucked her to get even?" 

"Not exactly. She came to me. She was upset about Jack seeing somebody else." 

"Nothing like a little irony, huh." 

"Yeah, well, she was so needy and I was so stupid." 

"And horny." 

"Yeah, and pissed at Jack, so I went ahead and did something I've regretted ever since. It should never have happened." 

"Kyle should never have happened either." 

"No, he shouldn't have, but he did. My whole time in vice was one big rebellion against rules and authority. It's no excuse, but I'd just come out of Peru, been debriefed and officially dumped by the military as seriously damaged goods. I was looking for a fight and a fuck around every corner." 

"And in vice it was an easy hunt, right?" 

"Right. Kyle Roman was just one of several men I messed over. I look back and don't even recognize that man with my name, but that doesn't change what I did. I have to take responsibility for that." 

"We all make mistakes, Jim." 

"And we all have to live with the fall out if we happen to survive. I got lucky because you came along." Gently he touched the outermost edge of his curls and then let his fingers trace the jawline. He noted the increase of heart rate and breathing, but no flinching, no pulling away. "I swear, if you hadn't been there to help when my senses kicked back in, there's no telling what might have happened." 

Slowly, Blair turned and reached up to capture Jim's roving hand to his cheek, his eyes really clear as he spoke. "I think I loved you the first time I saw you, man. Even in the hospital you had this strength, this vulnerability buffered with power that drew me. Then when you showed up at school, well, I have to tell you, that was like so primal, my very own sentinel shoving me against the wall, all pissed off and leaning against me, ready to listen, but not quite. Jesus, and then the truck deal. Shit." Clenching his eyes shut, he pulled away before Jim could stop him. 

"What?" 

"Jesus, Jim, why didn't you tell me I had a fucking chance to start with?" 

He shook his head, distressed once more at his partner's anger. "I don't know. I guess, I wanted to separate myself from that part of myself that caused so much pain before." 

"I don't understand. What does that mean, separate yourself?" 

"Look, I only slept with women until Peru. Then there was this whole new side of my sex life I never even knew about. I was starving by the time I got to vice. Then Jack really hurt me. I wanted to go back to women and stay there, but then you showed up and the hunger started all over." 

"Well, you've stayed on your diet long enough, man." Blair shivered and scooted over closer. His fingers walked along Jim's thighs, the touch like a sizzling fire and beautiful music. "I know you've been afraid to touch me because of what happened with Kyle, but I don't want this distance between us." 

"Me, either." 

"Then maybe we could just sort of ease into this new part. I have to confess, I'm a little scared here." 

"Scared of me?" 

"A little. And of me. You talked about being hungry, well, that's sort of how I feel about being with you sometimes. It was okay as long as I knew it was just one-sided, that you were just into women, but now it's different. It would've been really great if I'd found out without getting so fucked up in the process though." 

Tugging with just the slightest pressure, he pulled his guide into his arms, the smaller bottom shifting right next to his as he leaned his head on Jim's chest. Wrapping him in a strong embrace, he whispered, "I'm sorry, Blair. I never wanted you to be hurt." 

"I know, Jim." A firm palm stroked his chest, almost lazy, but persistent. "You never wanted any of this to happen, and I know you think it's your fault somehow, but it's not." 

"I'm glad you think that, but it still hurts knowing that the chain of events started with me." 

"No, it didn't. It started with their dad." 

"You mean Kyle's dad." 

"Yeah, well, I still think of them as two people, Kyle and Jeremy. I have to, Jim." 

His words hushed, almost afraid to ask, he spoke anyway. "Why?" 

"Because, I liked Jeremy, or at least that part of Kyle that was good to me. I guess, it makes me feel less like a victim somehow. A shrink would probably explain it better, but that's how it feels. Like maybe I had a little more choice in what happened if it happened with Jeremy and not Kyle." 

"We're not talking about the drugs here, are we, Chief? 

"No." Arms wrapped around his middle, holding him tighter. "I don't remember it all, but I do know something happened that started out feeling good, but ended with something awful. I know you don't want to hear this." 

"If you need to say it, I need to hear it." 

"Then just know that I was out of it at the time and still chained. I couldn't have stopped what happened, but during part of the time, the time when it was Jeremy and he wasn't hurting me, I didn't really even try to stop it, and that's the part that's confusing as hell." 

His whole body tight, his throat and mouth dry, Jim worked hard to form the right words, to block out the rage at Kyle Roman that threatened to pour out. "Blair, you survived. That's all that really matters to me." 

"Thanks, but you know it's more complicated than that. For both of us." 

Clearing his throat, blinking several times to focus his vision, he nodded and then rested his chin lightly on the top of his partner's head. "Yeah, I know." 

"But we'll work it out, right?" 

"As long as it's a we there, Chief, we'll be okay." 

After several long moments, Blair sat up and pushed back his hair, his eyes slightly red and swollen. "I think I'm really hungry for that sauce, Jim. You think maybe we could eat soon?" 

"You've got it. Just let me put on the pasta. The salad's already made." 

"Good, because I'm going to take a quick shower if I've got time." 

"Sure." 

As he stood, Blair ran the back of his palm up the side of Jim's cheek. "I'll be right back." 

"I'm counting on it." He kissed the captured hand. Even as his guide pulled away, he found himself lost in the fine lines and ridges, the musky scent of Blair strong enough to hold him forever. 

* * *

"Pretty good, man. I have to admit, I was hungry." 

"I can imagine." 

As he put the last dish up in the counter, Blair wiped his hands. "You just can't ever let it go, can you?" 

Jim stopped mid-drink and lowered the bottle. "What?" 

"Always being over-protective. You don't think I sleep enough or eat enough and you always have to keep pushing." 

Shrugging, Jim finished his beer and then rinsed out the bottle before throwing it away. "I'm not going to apologize for being worried." 

"I'm not asking you to do that." 

"Then what are you asking?" 

"I guess, I'm asking you not to mention it every time it occurs to you that I'm not living up to your standard." 

"Shit, Chief, that's never my intention." 

"It comes out like that." 

Taking a deep breath, while he rubbed his mouth a few times, he stood quietly until the initial defenses settled down. "Why are we fighting?" 

"We're not." 

"Feels like it." 

Leaning back on the counter, Blair folded the towel and placed it on the rack beside him. "I guess, I'm just trying to get you to stop hovering so much. I mean, I get that you're worried about me." 

"I'm not the only one." 

"I know that." For the first time in two weeks, Blair's hands moved while he talked, like his energy, though still strained, might finally return. "Every time I walk through the bullpen or the hallway at school, I get these concerned glances that make me want to kick somebody's ass." 

"And why would people caring about you bother you so much?" 

"How do you like it when people worry about you?" 

Shaking his head, leaning forward across the counter, Jim argued. "This isn't about me. It's about you. Why do you get so upset whenever someone tries to help or point out that maybe, just maybe, you should try to take a little better care of yourself?" 

"Now you're all pissed off, right?" The younger man crossed his arms, his frown darkening his face as he stared at his feet. 

"I'm not pissed off. I'm just worried. If that bothers you, too damn bad." 

"I expect that from you, Jim. I mean, you've always been over-protective. It's just part of who you are and I accept that even when it bugs me something awful, but now, well, now, it's like everybody knows about this THING that happened." The long string of words stretched out the dark emotion, exhaustion trailing behind each one. 

"People know you got hurt, Chief. They don't know the details." 

"Simon knows, and some of the others who were there know, some of the ones who saw me." Blair never looked up as he spoke. 

The knot in his throat made it hard to swallow as he remembered the horror of finding the man he loved drugged and beaten. "Simon's a friend and a cop. As for the others, how would you feel if it had been one of them in the same position? Suppose Brown or Taggert or Rafe had been hurt like you were, wouldn't you worry and try to help him?" 

Uneasy, but not fidgeting quite so much, Blair nodded. "Yeah, I guess. I just don't like being the focus of all that worry. It's too much pressure to be okay." 

"And you're not okay, right?" 

"No, I'm not. I'm trying and some things are better, but no, I'm not okay." 

Jim stepped to stand beside him, bracing himself on the counter. "That's honest, Chief. I'm not glad you're so off balance, but I am glad you're finally admitting you're not fine. So, we'll work on getting closer to whatever it means to be okay together." 

"Easy for you to say, man. You don't have people coming up giving you all kinds of well-meaning lectures on positive thinking and eating better." 

"No, I just have one guy who's done that ever since I've known him." 

Laughing, Blair slid sideways, resting his weight on his friend. "Yeah, I forgot about that." 

"I can't. I mean, I want Mexican food and you tell me to shoot the lard straight in my veins. I want Wonder Burgers and it's a half hour at least on cleansing my system." 

"Oh, man, I am like so going to change that." 

Wrapping him in strong arms, he pulled him to his front, staring into deep blue. "Fuss all you want. I'm used to it. I just like listening to your voice. It's kind of addictive." 

"Yeah?" The word came out husky, breathy as he stared up. 

"Yeah. When I was with Incacha, he told me that when the Shaman talks, the sentinel must choose to listen or be lost." 

Pulling back far enough to study his face, Blair shook his head in amazement. "I don't believe this." 

"What?" 

"You never told me that before." 

"There are a lot of things I haven't told you." 

"Like that you and Incacha were lovers?" 

Arms stiffened slightly, but relaxed when he realized the words held no accusation or anger. "How did you know that?" 

Standing between his spread legs, Blair used both hands to massage Jim's chest, the gentle, even rubbing surging pressure right down to his groin. "The way you said his name. Plus, I was thinking about what you said before about not being with a man before Peru. It was Incacha that helped you with your senses. He also helped you find the rest of your sexuality, right?" 

"Yeah, he did. He was a wonderful man, strong and willing to teach me about myself. More important, he accepted me for what I was, a sentinel. I'd never had that before, not with my father or anyone else. I always had to hide that part of who I am, but not with Incacha. I loved him so much, and when the army came to get me, I wanted to stay. He's the one who insisted that I had to come back." 

Puzzled, his face twisted with the pressure of questions, Blair continued the tender touches, the smoothing of both body and arms. "But why didn't he want you stay?" 

"Because he told me then that he wasn't my true guide, that I'd find the one I needed back in my world, not in his." 

"Oh, man, that had to be rough. Do you think that's why you forgot so much of what happened to you there?" 

"That and losing my men, yeah, probably." He hugged him close before he spoke. "But he was right, Chief. I found you and he knew that. He told me he was happy for us before he died." 

"But we weren't together like you two were. Did he know that?" 

"He knew, but he also knew that eventually it would happen." 

"Smart guy Incacha." 

"I only let smart guys guide me, Chief." 

"Smart ass." 

"Cute ass, too." 

"Oh, yeah." He leaned in and grabbed Jim's backside, laughing out loud at the slow purr that got louder with each squeeze. "God, you're so easy." 

"And too hard to move, if you keep this going. Maybe we should slow down and move this discussion to the sofa." 

A head rubbed his belly with a nod and Blair stood up. "Okay, just don't expect me to talk with my hands the whole time." 

As he followed him into the living room, he noted the gradual change in his partner's expression and posture. The smile faded and by the time he sat down, his face took on the exhaustion that hollowed his eyes and darkened his cheeks. "Maybe we should go to bed, Chief." 

"Yeah, but whose bed?" 

"I was thinking maybe ours." 

"Ours? As in the one upstairs?" 

"Yeah, it's bigger." 

"Okay. Just let me get some things." 

Touching his arm as he started toward his bedroom, Jim whispered, "You don't have to, Blair, not if it's too soon." 

"I want to. I want to be with you, but I can't do the sex deal just yet. Is that going to be a problem?" 

"Not for me. I just want to hold you." 

"I can do holding." 

* * *

"Hey, Jim." Blair stood at the top of the stairs, a couple of books and his laptop in his arms. "Care if I join you?" 

He smiled at the shy expression of his friend standing there in his tank top and boxers holding his school work. "God, I hope I don't get arrested." 

"What?" 

"You look like a kid standing there." 

Tilting his head, his expression hardened into his soon to be pissed off if you don't shut up face. "I'm no kid, Jim." 

"No, Blair, you're not." Patting the bed beside him, Jim scooted over and lifted the covers. "Come on in. It's nice and toasty." 

"Thanks." As he sat down, he put the lap top on his thighs and his books between himself and Jim. "I hope you don't mind me working up here a little bit." 

"I don't mind, but I thought you were tired." 

"I am, but my mind's still pretty revved up. Thought I'd make a few lecture notes before tomorrow. I got a little behind and so I need to focus on what I need to do to catch up. If it bothers you, I can go back downstairs and work." 

"It's no problem. In fact, I was kind of working on a project myself." 

"What project?" 

Reaching to the side of the bed, Jim picked up the album he'd started earlier that day. "It's not finished yet." 

Blair took the binder out his friend's hands and leaned against the pillows already propped up against the back of the bed. As he opened the cover and then several more pages, surprise twisted his features. "Jim? What is this?" 

"I tried to find all the pictures we had of the two of us. That first one is after we got back from stopping Kincaid." 

"Shit. Kincaid, now there's a name for nightmares." 

Suddenly worried about his choice, Jim touched his friend's hand. "I didn't mean for you to think of the bad time, but the fact that we got to be partners." 

Patting Jim's hand, he nudged it over, greedy to turn the page. "Oh, man, look at this. That's you on the court steps and me pulling you away before you killed that asshole who killed Danny. Damn, I'm still wondering how you managed to keep that one out of the papers." 

"I didn't. Simon did. Still, it's a nice hug shot." 

Chuckling, Blair turned the page. "Oh, wow, look at this. Larry. Oh, man, I miss the little guy. When did you take this one?" 

"I think it was after he trashed the place the second time, right before you took him to a better place to tear up. He was kind of cute though." 

Leaning his head back, Blair spoke, his voice dreamy. "Man, I can remember what it felt like for you to let me stay here, Jim. I mean, I didn't want to admit it, but hell, that warehouse was scary as hell. The first time I woke up with a rat in my face, I thought I was going to lose it big time." 

"Shit, Chief." He stroked his hand lovingly and slowly ran his fingers up his partner's arm. "I hated that place. If those drug thugs hadn't blown it up, I was thinking about doing it myself. What the hell possessed you to live there?" 

"I don't know. I liked the space, but it was cold and kind of dangerous now that I think about it. I guess, back then I just never thought much about anything or anybody being able to really hurt me." His voice faded on the last words and Jim turned the page trying to ignore the strong salty scent of tears forming. 

"Hey, here's one that's a little better." 

Playing off wetness as having a lash in his eye, Blair checked out the picture of the two of them with Isabelle in front of the train. "She had a really nice belly, man." 

"And when did you see her belly, Chief?" 

"When she was telling me how much taller she was and she was reaching over my head to get my pocket knife." He laughed to himself and shook his head. "Man, she would've whipped my ass good if she'd known the thoughts in my head when she put her crotch in my face." 

"Oh really?" 

"I never claimed to be a saint, man." 

Kissing his shoulder, Jim chuckled. "Good thing. Might make me self-conscious." 

"Bet your ass, man." Turning the page again, he stopped and a slight pause in breathing made Jim think he might have made a mistake to include the next picture. "Damn, Jim. I didn't know you had this." 

"It's a good picture of you, Chief." 

"I still have feelings for her you know." 

"I know." 

"When she left the first time, she said she loved me and hated me at the same time. I mean, I couldn't blame her, but I think I should've just tried harder to stop feeling for her then. Might have hurt less." 

"You loved Maya." 

"Yeah, I did." Meeting Jim's eyes, he cupped his cheek and smiled. "But that doesn't stop me from loving you, too." 

"I know that." He shifted in closer and whispered. "Turn the page." 

Eagerly, Blair did as told. "Wow, Brother Marcus and the whole crew right before we left on the bus. Cool." 

As he went to the next page, he stopped dead still. "Man, Jim, you're making me a wreck here." 

"You don't like it?" 

"Are you kidding? What's not to like? Simon and Daryl wouldn't be alive if it weren't for you, man. You were awesome down in Peru. But seeing this picture with you still in that warrior's paint, well, it just does something to me." 

"You saying you like me all painted up, Chief?" He teased Blair's arm with his fingers again, the heat from his guide's nearby groin coupled with the strong smell of arousal increasing his own interest. 

"Oh, man, if you only knew." 

His voice husky, he licked the closest arm and whispered. "Tell me." 

Closing the album, Blair quickly put the computer and other things on the floor and then rolled into Jim's arms. Snuggling there, his erection between them, he moved his knee between Jim's thighs to slide even closer. His kiss heated the whiskered neck right under the chin, the tongue and teeth leaving a string of stinging licks and nips. 

"I jerked off for months with that image of you in my head, Jim. You were so tough and focused, so determined to save us all. God, I loved you so much, I would've done anything you wanted, anytime." 

As his partner's body rocked against his, the tension firing through his belly into his back, Jim groaned. "Why didn't you say something?" 

"I couldn't. I didn't want to push my luck." 

Hands moved all over his body, while Blair nudged him on his back, kneeling between his legs and leaning forward. Only thin layers of cotton separated their bodies, both cocks leaking and touching through the fabric. Lying up and across Jim's chest, the younger man captured his lips as a strong tongue pushed to the back of his throat, his whole mouth filled and surrendered. 

Blair's hips pumped against him over and over, the friction intense, near pain, but not quite. Jim's head fell back, his moans swallowed up, his face held between two guiding hands. Wrapping his arms around the broad chest, he held the body tight, the sweat between them slicking the skin, the fuzzy tickle of Blair's chest hair brushing though the cotton, every strand curled and branded into his own tissue. Pressure all along his spine increased, his balls swelling as his belly tightened. His ass wanted more but clenched at the quick shoves and sudden convulsive jerks both against him and in his arms. The long low groan filled his ears with pleasure as heat spread between his legs, the heady scent of pure semen sending him over the edge. His own bucking ride filled his skull with explosive reds flashing as his cock controlled him, paralyzed his mind to anything but the pure sensation of coming. 

After several minutes of labored breathing and no talk, Blair finally whispered. "Damn, I am like so in love it hurts, man." 

Kissing the top of sweaty curls resting on his chest, Jim spoke softly, his words lazy and content. "Not so much you'll stop though, I hope." 

"No, never that much." Rolling over to the side and spooning in so that his ass met Jim's sticky crotch, the younger man pulled exhausted arms around him. "I didn't know if I could do that or not." 

"What?" 

"Make love." 

"So, is this another test?" 

"Yeah, I guess, but more for me than you. I just had to know if I could do it and not be ambushed and I can." 

Bringing him in really close, Jim whispered into his ear. "We're going to be okay, Chief." 

"I want us to be more than okay. I want this thing gone out of our lives." 

"That's not going to ever happen. What happened with Roman will always be there, but we can tag team its sorry ass and not let it take over. I think you just made a hell of a start in taking back your life." 

Gently rubbing Jim's holding wrists, Blair nodded. "Our lives, Jim." 

"It's the same thing." Kissing his cheek, he then locked his chin in the crook of his partner's neck and relaxed. "God, I love you." 

Raising his hand to pet sentinel whiskers, he smiled and shook his head. "Go to sleep, Jim. We'll talk in the morning. Simon gave me the name of a good shrink for Janie, but I met her and she might be a good person for us, too." 

"A shrink?" Even cold reality couldn't wash away the cushion of Blair warmth wrapping his every tissue. "Okay. Whatever you want, Chief." 

"Night, Jim. Thanks for the cool album." 

Snuggling in closer, taking a deep whiff of damp curls, the mix of his guide and himself like a large whiskey on an empty belly, Jim smiled. "It's not done yet." 

"You've got that right." 

Fading off into sleep, a smile curling his lips, Jim Ellison thought of a whole library of images yet to be captured, stubble scraping thighs, Blair's tongue down his throat, a firm hand stroking his cock, the sight of his true love smiling as he nestled against his chest. No picture came close to his memory and hope, the sharing and need he held in greedy arms, the man guiding him to both purpose and pleasure, his one true shaman. 

The END 


End file.
